Fear
by Em Mindelan
Summary: You’re scared of her, and everything she brings you." SVL, "Repercussions" post-ep.


Yes, it's another Vaughn POV post-Telling second person fic.   
  
This can probably be considered a loose sequel to "Pain" and "Independence Day", although it's not necessary for you to have read both of them.  
  
TITLE: Fear  
SUMMARY: "You're scared of her, and everything she brings you." S/V, "Repercussions" post-ep.   
RATING: PG/PG-13  
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, all JJ's.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to **carmen_sandiego** for the beta.   
SUGGESTED SOUNDTRACK: "Monsters", Something for Kate, "So Real", Jeff Buckley, "Mojo Pin", Jeff Buckley, "Bring Me To Life", Evanescence.

**Fear**

You're scared of her, and everything she brings you.

It's too much. Too deep. Too fast.

Just…too much.__

You can't cope with the rush, the constant shot of adrenaline that being near her inevitably brings.

It's heady, intoxicating, overwhelming ….and it makes you lose control.

You've always had control over your life. Or you've always liked to think that, anyway. 

Always liked to think that your destiny is in your own hands.

But what she does to you removes any illusions about your own free will.

You are hers, _bodyheartsoul_.

And that terrifies you.

You've seen what you become without her.

And you're afraid of what will happen if you lose her again.

But Lauren's not like that, and you think that maybe that's why you're with her.

You would say that that's why you love her, but…

_But_.

_But you don't?_

_But you do?_

You _do love your wife. You have to, after all, or surely there would be no reason _why_ she's your wife…right?_

Lauren is safe.

Lauren is familiar.

Lauren is predictable.

You wouldn't die if Lauren died. Not like you did when she did.

You would grieve, yes, but you wouldn't die, wouldn't drink yourself into madness like you did.

You wouldn't hear her voice in your head, wouldn't carry her around like a ghost for months on end until you no longer knew what was real and what was false and didn't really care that much either.

Because she doesn't have that much power over you.   
  
She doesn't have the power to transform you into a quivering ball of mush at a single touch, a single glance, a single word.

But Sydney does.

And it terrifies you.

She consumes you, everything you were, everything you are, everything you will ever be.

She eats you up, every little bit of you, and regurgitates you, _strongerweakerbetterworse than before._

She is entangled in who you are, so much that you're scared that sometimes you no longer know where you end and where she begins. 

And it _terrifies you.  
  
_

*

She's always had power over you.

You know this, have been told this, have been disciplined over this.

You've done so much for her. 

You've robbed the Vatican with her, sprung her from federal custody.

You've killed men for her.

And she has done the same for you.

[_hersinsyourguilt]_

You hate the control she has over you, hate the way that you cannot resist a single question, request, command.

You had days _before__ [__beforeitallwenttohell] where you had walked into the warehouse furious with her, angry, mad, determined that you weren't going to let her get away with this. Not again. Not this time. _

But every time you saw her, every time she spoke to you, every time she breathed….the anger and rage just disappeared.

And you hated it. Hated your inability to control your own emotions.

You would resolve that today would be the day.

  
Today would be the day that you would break away. 

Today would be the day you took control.

But you would always come crawling back to her.

And then it would begin again, the_ consumingoverwhelmingpainvictoryanguishlove that you have always associated with her._

It is beautiful, uplifting, the best thing in your life.

It is controlling, heartbreaking, irresistible.

She is the best thing that ever happened to you.

And she is the worst.

*

She stabbed you.

You can understand why she did it.

She did it to save you.

But it still hurts.

Still puts you in pain.

And it's just another reminder that maybe you're better off with predictable.

Because while Lauren may not be her, at least she's not going to stab you.

Lauren is freedom, in a way. Freedom from the pain, freedom from the grief, freedom from emotion itself, almost.

Lauren is control.

And Sydney is free fall, _outofcontrolsoaringfallingscreamingfallinglearninghowtofly__?_

Sydney is _everything._

*

Sydney is too much for you.

You have a dream, after she stabs you.

She tells you that she misses you.

And you tell her that you do as well.

Because you do.

And that's the truth.

It's not the whole truth, because the whole truth is incoherent stabbing pains of emotions and words and memories.

The whole truth is:

_Whysydwhycouldn'tyouhavestayeddead?Easierforbothofus?Loveyouloveyoumissyoumissyouhowdoesthisend?howdoimakeitend?_

The whole truth is that you don't know which way is up and which way is down anymore.

The truth is that you know that what is happening right now is only hurting all three of you, but you have no idea how to make it end, only that you want it to.

You don't want to love her.

But you do. 

So you tell her that you miss her.

And the look on her face breaks your heart _againandagainandagain._

You kiss her.

_Likeyou'vebeenwantingtodoforsolongsolongsolong._

And then she stabs you.

And she says, "How could you do this to me?"

And you don't know.

You don't know how you could hurt her this much.

You don't want to have hurt her like this.

But you have.

*

You're scared of what she brings you.

What she promises.

What she means.

She is:

_Beautygraceterrorstabbingpainwounddrinkmadnessfreefallscream_

and she is

_everythingmyloveeverythingguardianangelallyworldangelloverpastpresentfuture._

She is many things.

And all of them scare you, not least the fact that you could be happy with her again, even after all you've done to her, even after all the pain you've caused her.

Not least the fact that she forgave you for moving on, managed to forgive you in two weeks _fourteendays__ fivehundredseventysixhours._

You've been trying to forgive yourself since the day you met Lauren.

Trying. Telling yourself that she moved on to you after Danny just as you're moving on to Lauren after her.

Telling yourself that she wouldn't want you to waste your life. That she would want you to be happy.

These are all logical arguments, you know.

But somehow you can't forgive yourself, no matter how many 'logical' arguments your brain gives to your heart, no matter how many 'rational' explanations you come up with.

But she can. And she has.

And that _terrifies you._

*

After she died-no, you correct yourself, after she _disappeared_…you died inside.

You can't tell someone who hasn't been through something like that what it's like.

Telling them that you 'died inside' is a cliché, you know.

But it's the only way that you can communicate the way that you felt, the way you disintegrated, not quickly [_becausethatwouldhavebeentooeasy], but slowly, like each part, each layer of you was being peeled off slowly, painfully, revealing only the tortured, wounded inside._

It was like being slowly grated to pieces, dyingslowlyso _s l o w l y, hurtinghurtinghurting with every breath, every drink, every word said to her, every memory every thought _everything_._

_Everything reminded you of her._

_Everything was __in her and she was in everything and everywhere you went every step you took she followed behind you so real so real so real so real._

She had always been bigger than life to you.

More real than anything you'd ever experienced.

You would close your eyes and she would be there.

_Burningintotheinsidesofyoureyelidssuperimposedonyourretinas_.

You could escape everything trapped up there inside your apartment, alone, day in day out _never fail. You could escape work, Eric, Jack, Dixon, Donovan…everything._

Except what you were trying to escape, trying to forget.

Because this was what you were trying to forget:

_Allyguardianangelforeverforeverforever__.___

And:

"I booked the tickets for Santa Barbara."

And:

_Whitepicketfence2.5kidshermehappyhappycontentloveyouloveyouloveyou._

And:

_Whereisshewhereisshewhereisshe__?__ She can't die, can't die, can't leave me here…Eric, where is she? _

And:

_JackBristowcrying/youcrying/everyonecrying/dusttodustashestoasheswhatdotheyknow?___

You were trying to forget her.

Trying to forget everything that she was to you: _pastpresentfuture._

And you couldn't.

So you died.

Oh, no, not physically. That would have been the easy way out, wouldn't it?

Truth be told, you were too much of a coward to commit suicide. 

You'd considered it, sure. Wondered what it was like to die.

Whether or not you'd still end up with her if you killed yourself.

But somehow you never quite ended up going through with it, did you?

Because you were too scared, weren't you?

Just like you're too scared now. Too scared of what losing her again would do to you.

_Still too scared._

*

There is no easy way out of this.

No way out of this at all that you can see, really.

Because at the end of the day, you're still married, and her love still terrifies you.

And so you will stay with your wife, stay a little bit longer in your wedding bed, too much of a coward to tell your wife that you're still in love with Sydney, that you can't deny it anymore, that you're leaving, that you don't love her enough to stay, that it's only out of fear that you still come home every night.

Because it is out of fear you stay.

You know it. You've always known it.

Fear of her. Fear of falling again. Fear of letting her in so far that you'd never get out again.

Lauren, despite all of her faults, is safe.

You're not scared that if you look too far into her eyes that you may never escape…or, perhaps worse, that you might never want to.

So tonight you will go home.

You will kiss your wife. You will ask her how her day was, answer her questions about how you're feeling. 

And you will fall asleep beside her, wishing her hair was brown, not blonde.

You could end it now. End all of this sweet agony that fills your heart. 

You know you could end it. But you know that you won't. 

Because in the end, you're still a coward.

And she still terrifies you.

*

_finis_


End file.
